


Hotel Rooms

by Lieju



Category: Spirou et Fantasio
Genre: M/M, basically a story idea i had a for a longer fic and never will write properly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 15:59:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8333668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lieju/pseuds/Lieju
Summary: Series of events in different hotel rooms





	

 

Spirou steps into the empty hotel room and gives it a quick but thorough inspection. Everything looks good, the bed is tidy, the toilet is clean. He slides his hand behind the bed and inspects his glove. He frowns at the dust on his finger. The hotel staff hasn't been as thorough as they could have been...

 

Spirou sighs, reminding himself he's not a bellhop anymore. Hasn't been in decades.

 

Still, old habits die hard.

 

He hopes he'd have a feather duster or a vacuum cleaner, something to busy himself with.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Spirou laid on his back, staring at the grey hotel room ceiling, listening to the peaceful breathing coming from the other figure laying next to him. It was comforting, having the familiar figure next to him. Even if they didn't usually share the bed anymore. Like they had, years ago.

 

Spirou swallowed. It felt different now somehow. He wondered if Fantasio had felt the same when he had gone to bed. The blonde had made an awkward joke or two about the mix up with the room and how they had given them a room with a couples bed by mistake.

 

Spirou played the scene in his mind.

 

Fantasio had stood there in his pyjamas, after changing in the bathroom. He had looked at his friend and there had been something odd in that look.

 

"They probably thought we were a couple."

 

Spirou had answered something dismissive, too shaken to think properly. Shaken for no reason.

 

Other people had said things like that before. Assumed things before, and been nastier about it.

 

And it hadn't bothered Spirou. He hadn't thought twice about it, apart from maybe the anger at some ruder comments. But it had felt impersonal.

 

It was absurd, after all.

 

He slowly inched closer to Fantasio, until he was close enough to feel the heat emanating from him.

The warm body next to him did feel nice...

 

What if it was true? What if in some kind of alternative universe they were dating? They'd still live together, and work together, it wouldn't be a big change.

 

But it was a nice thought. He could be close to him, and touch him. Fantasio would come home from work and kiss Spirou on the cheek as a greeting. They would be reunited after some danger on an adventure separated them, and instead of just embracing him Fantasio would pull him close against him, sloppily planting kisses to his face, mumbling how much he loved Spirou through his tears-

 

Fantasio mumbled in his sleep, snapping Spirou out of his reverie.

Spirou recoiled, pulling away from his friend, ashamed of the thoughts that had been going through his mind.

 

And he realized why that particular instance had felt so upsetting.

 

Had it been just his imagination, or had Fantasio looked at him like he knew?

 

Did he know?

 

Had he figured Spirou out before he himself had?

 

Had that been a message to Spirou?

 

That it will never happen.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Spirou's pacing around the hotel room is interrupted by his phone beeping, telling him he has a text.

 

He pulls it out.

 

It's from Zantafio.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Spirou climbed on top of the figure and took a second to appreciate the naked form under him. This was the third time he and Zantafio met in a cheap hotel room for sex. The first time, it had been a hostage situation that had spontaneously turned from violent to passionate. The second, they had ran into each other, both after a piece of information on an ancient artefact. The third time Zantafio had sent him a text with the address.

 

Zantafio grinned, and Spirou was certain he was blushing.

Zantafio always teased Spirou, ran his fingers on his body, started undressing him, but always paused like this.

He wanted Spirou to show how much he wanted it. He was looking up, challenging Spirou to keep going.

 

Zantafio was still wearing his trousers but sitting on top of him as he was Spirou could tell Zantafio was as hard as he was. That made Spirou feel better. Knowing he had some effect on Zantafio. Spirou softly grinded against his hips, and a gasp escaped Zantafio.

 

Spirou descended to kiss him, capturing his lips and slightly pushing his tongue inside the open mouth.

 

Zantafio's arms reached around him to pull him closer and Spirou wondered why it felt so easy to do this.

 

He kissed Zantafio, trying to ignore the pencil mustache that brushed against his lips.

 

* * *

 

 

Spirou stares at the message.

 

_I'll be there in half an hour._

 

How does Zantafio know where he is? Or is he simply guessing..?

 

Spirou didn't tell anyone where he went. He didn't even know he was coming to this hotel until few hours ago. He just told Fantasio he had to be off, took the car, and ran.

 

* * *

 

 

Spirou closed the hotel door after himself, after checking the hallway was empty. He wiped the sweat off his brow. This little town out of nowhere in Australia was blistering hot, and the bellhop uniform was sticking to Spirou's sweaty back in an unpleasant manner.

 

Also the stress and running from a group of thugs all day wasn't helping.

 

"Fantasio?"

 

The man sitting on the bed nodded in response. He wasn't looking good.

 

"Are you okay?" Spirou asked.

 

Fantasio crossed his arms and frowned. "Of course I'm not okay." He gestured towards his leg that had been bandaged as well as Spirou had managed. "I was _shot_."

 

Spirou stepped to the bed. The bullet had simply scraped his leg but there had been some bleeding. Nevertheless, in this kind of environment an infection was more than likely.

 

"Does it feel like it's getting worse?"

 

"Not worse, not better. But did you know I was almost killed by a monstrous spider? This place is crawling full of them and we can't get out fast enough if you ask me. Did you see anyone outside?"

 

Spirou shook his head. "No, but it doesn't mean we're in the clear."

 

He sat on the bed next to Fantasio. "Do you think you can run on that leg?"

 

Fantasio sighed. "In a pinch, yes."

 

He let out a laugh. "I'm starting to get too old for this."

 

Spirou took his hand. "Nonsense."

 

But there was a sting of fear. What if the bullet had hit him just few centimetres to the right, hitting an artery? Or worse?

 

Spirou felt ill. Fantasio was right, he wasn't as young as he had used to be. Neither of them were. He couldn't stand to lose Fantasio...

 

Spirou's lips met Fantasio's in a chaste kiss.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Spirou throws his phone across the room and hears it hit the wall.

He immediately regrets it, and sits on the bed.

 

He has made a mess of things.

 

Of everything.

 

Neither he or Fantasio brought up the kiss they shared even after returning home. Could they just pretend it didn't happen? It was a mistake.

 

Spirou thinks of Zantafio. Things are so easy with him. Why on earth isn't he so afraid to do these things with _him_?

 

It has been so easy, meeting with Zabtafio like this, both getting what they wanted, pretending it never happened afterwards.

 

With Fantasio it'd be different.

 

There would be so much to lose...

 

And now he'd have this baggage. He has slept with Zantafio. Several times. Fantasio could never know.

 

Spirou buries his face to his hands.

 

_No._

 

This is a mess. He can't keep this up, and he can't keep on lying-

 

A beep from the disregarded phone interrupts his thoughts.

 

Spirou stands up and walks to the phone.

 

If he had any doubts, the fact his heart leaps with joy upon seeing who it is from gives him the certainty he needs.

 

_are you ok?_

 

Fantasio.

 

Spirou makes his decision and steps out of the hotel room.

 

 


End file.
